The holidays are always a busy time and that usually includes the viewing of lots of screeners. Below are my thoughts on several films, though my review of Somewhere is missing from the list and will have to be reserved for later as I watched it a few weeks ago, but was limited by embargo from publishing one at the time and it slipped my mind until now.

So, here is what I watched this weekend:

RABBIT HOLE

How we cope with the loss of a loved one is at the center of Rabbit Hole, a movie that doesn’t wallow in pity and never becomes maudlin despite the potential of the plot.

Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart play Becca and Howie, a couple whose son is killed when he pursued his dog into the street. The audience is spared the full impact of the scene, showing it only briefly when described by Becca to her son’s killer Jason (Miles Teller) whom she stalks and eventually questions over the incident. Her way of coping is trying to rationalize the death. She doesn’t want to think about it because it brings so much pain, but she can’t hep but dwell on the incident, each reference to her child bringing an emotional response she can’t control. And by interviewing Jason who’s still so full of life, she has an opportunity to almost live vicariously through him. He is working on a self-penned and animated comic book called The Rabbit Hole about a series of alternate realities. Inside a young boy searches for his father and through this new experience comes to understand that sorrow is only manifested in one reality and in many others that sadness is not present. The concept acts as a small measure of comfort for Becca.

Howie’s grief is expressed through constantly re-watching a video of him and his son on his phone. Aggrieved, he tries to find a way to push on either by going to a support group or trying to have another child with his wife. His desire to keep every vestige of his son with him and in their house is frequently at odds with Becca who wants to remove every remnant in hopes that absence of reminder will drive away the pain. He is even tempted to cheat on his loveless marriage with a fellow support group member whose husband has left her. His temptation is strong, for it would allow him something he is not getting with his wife who has withdrawn into herself and left an icy void between them.

The film has four terrific and one quite good performance. Teller gives the least of the five performances, but that’s largely due to his lack of narrative thrust. His character is a vessel for Becca’s fears, frustrations and joys, but really has no other emotional clarity. To be believable in such a role is a testament to talent. Above him and in the terrific category is Sandra Oh as the “temptress” a grieving woman who shares her deepest thoughts with Howie. They have a similar coping style and their scenes together are quite good. Dianne Wiest has a very brief role as Becca’s controlling mother who lost her son as well, though at a more advanced age and due to his own doing, not that of someone else. Wiest hasn’t had such a strong role in a number of years, though it’s a bit too brief. However, she does immeasurable work with what little time she has.

When looking at Kidman and Eckhart, you can’t divorce one from the other. Although both have scenes apart, their time onscreen together is electric. The years of love and compassion have devolved into frustration and animosity. They are so incapable of coping together that it’s driving a wedge between them. Their performances are both together and separate quite spectacular. Kidman has more comparative experience, but Eckhart has used his career more wisely. Every great stage-to-screen adaptation requires actors who understand their characters and convey them appropriately and sympathetically. Both Eckhart and Kidman accomplish that. These are vibrant characters whose grief is accessible and contagious. You share their pain. You wonder how they could be so easily driven apart, yet understand why they have been. It’s as much their capability as that of director John Cameron Mitchell and screenwriter (and original playwright) David Lindsay-Abaire.

While Lindsay-Abaire has hardly had a successful career in film (he wrote both the poorly-reviewed Inkheart and awful Robots), Mitchell showed great energy and creativity with his one-man show Hedwig and the Angry Inch. While Hedwig had a great number of comedic elements, Rabbit Hole has none. It is a work of unrepentant sadness and emotional exploration. Yet, Mitchell handles it with aplomb. You would be hard-pressed to see where Rabbit Hole and Hedwig were at all related and that shows a willingness by the director to expand his horizons and traverse new ground. So much of the film’s success is thanks to Mitchell, though having a strong foundation in the script by Lindsay-Abaire certainly helps.

THE FIGHTER

Based on the true story of boxer Irish Mickey Ward, The Fighter represents director David O. Russell’s first major Oscar contender.

Mark Wahlberg stars as Mickey Ward, the younger brother of a strung out drug addict Dicky (Christian Bale) who once knocked out Sugar Ray Leonard, but who’s let fame seep into his brain and driven him to ruin. Dicky is in the process of training Mickey under their mother’s (Melissa Leo) management to become a prize fighter, but after a disastrous HBO event where Mickey’s supposed opponent is taken ill and he’s forced to take on a challenger who easily outweighs him, Mickey retreats to a bar. There, he meets the beautiful bartender (Amy Adams) who shines a light into his otherwise miserable life. Then, Dicky gets himself arrested and nearly takes Mickey with him who fights off the police who are manhandling his brother. Mickey gets out, but Dicky is sent to prison where he lives vicariously through his brother who becomes a success on his own away from the negative impact of his brother and mother.

The film is supposed to be about Mickey, but Bale dominates nearly every seen he’s in, giving a fantastic performance. His acting is a bit off-putting at times, but then so is his character and when, at the end of the film, we’re introduced to the real Mickey and Dicky, the resemblance, physical and vocal characteristics are so comparative, it’s stunning. His best scene is a quiet one in the bunk in prison where he must come down from his perpetual high and move towards recovery. Yet, Bale isn’t the only person who deserves praise for this film. All four actors are near the top of their games. Leo is outlandish as Alice Ward, but she makes it work despite having an unlikable and frequently unsympathetic character; Adams sheds her good girl reputation and gets down and dirty, both sexually and verbally as Mickey’s aggressive and possessive girlfriend; but it’s Wahlberg who deserves quite a bit of praise for his performance. Although his character never has the fireworks moments of his co-stars, he anchors the film with sensitivity, vulnerability and warmth. And comparing him to his real life counterpart at the end of the film, you have to give him credit for accomplishing something. To stand against actors who’ve got far stronger resumes and play a more meek role is a feat in and of itself, but to do so with such a lived-in performance is what is so special.

The film ends rather abruptly. I don’t know whether it’s because of the solid pacing of the film, but by the time you’ve reached the end, you’re hardly aware of the trip. There are a few clunker scenes that drag the film down, but there’s a genuine compassion in the lens that Russell brings out. These aren’t rich characters. They aren’t necessarily even friendly, but you are pulled into their lives and you can appreciate their sacrifices and struggles with demons in a way that many similar films can’t. That the film seems to switch focus to easily between Bale and Wahlberg, is perhaps its biggest flaw. The story is ostensibly about Mickey, but the film gives equal time to both brothers. Bale may have the fireworks, but it’s not his film and Russell lets him have too much time with the audience when we should be valuing Wahlberg. On top of that, there are several narrative threads that feel unexplored, like the relationship between Mickey and his father (the underappreciated Jack McGee); the tentative truce between Adams and Leo; and the conclusion that feels almost like we’re being abandoned rather than being resolved. Yet, even with these somewhat minor flaws, it’s still a movie that deserves to be seen.

THE TOWN

A crisp, energetic heist film represents another strong entry in actor-director Ben Affleck’s oeuvre as filmmaker.

Affleck also stars as Doug MacRay, the son of an incarcerated bank robber (Chris Cooper), who has been pulled into the business alongside the man whose family adopted him when his father was sent to prison. James Coughlin (Jeremy Renner) is a fairly hardened ex-con who has become increasingly unstable and, after a violent outburst at the film’s first bank job, Doug decides to take ownership of a mess they have gotten themselves into. The opening heist is chaotic, yet focused. You can follow the action with minimal effort and the excessive editing that often accompanies action films is left largely unused. During their hit, they take a hostage to ensure their safe escape. Claire Keesey (Rebecca Hall) is their liability. Although she has not seen them, she may know enough to trip them up. So, they agree she needs to be followed, but Doug takes the duty from James whom he thinks will actually kill her if he discovers something amiss. While tracking her, Doug starts dating her and eventually falls in love.

The entire cast works well together, though there’s nothing particularly otherworldly about them. They all deserve praise, but not too much of it. Affleck isn’t the weakest link, but he’s the easiest target for derision. His character isn’t exactly the most deep or vocally aggressive, but he handles himself well against the more bombastic members of his group. Renner is strong as the temperamental, aggressive cohort, but it’s a performance we’ve seen from him before, though perhaps a little less maniacal. Ever since he got his start in Dahmer, he’s been an actor to watch and it’s nice to see him get some recognition. Less impressive in his vulgarity and crassness, Pete Postlethwaite snarls his way through the film as the ring leader of the operation who doesn’t want Doug leaving the group without his permission.

Despite having one of the more complicated characters on television, Jon Hamm has not been given much room to work on the big screen. His roles in the remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still and this year’s The A-Team (also playing a special agent) suggest that he’s not being taken seriously as an actor of range and, until he gets a more complex role than this, I don’t really care much for him on film. Rebecca Hall is much better than I expected. She’s done a lot of work in recent years, but everywhere I’ve seen her (Vicky Cristina Barcelona, The Prestige and Frost/Nixon), she’s barely registered. Here she finally does and if she can stick to this kind of role or at least this quality of performance, she could have an excellent career. However, the one real achievement here is the strung-out single mother played by Blake Lively. Here’s an actress who’s clearly traded on her beauty for success, much like Megan Fox, but after this, you have to consider her a strong and capable actress. She wasn’t bad in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, but here she makes a name for herself and I really hope to see more like this out of her in the future.

But the film’s real M.V.P. is Affleck as director who has taken a potentially negligible screenplay and turned it into a capable, engaging film. I really would like to see him grow into other genres, but with this and Gone Baby Gone, I’m hoping we’ll get to see more and, unlike several of his less talented actor-turned-director compatriots, I hope he’s recognized by the Academy for it…if he can keep it up.

TRUE GRIT

I don’t know if I’m warming up to the Coens or if their filmmaking style is just becoming less smug. True Grit is easily one of their better films, better than their Best Picture nominee last year A Serious Man, though still second to my personal preference of their films: The Man Who Wasn’t There. The story, re-adapted from the novel by Charles Portis, may seem to some to be an adaptation of the original film with John Wayne. However, as the makers have clearly stated and others have previously observed, the adaptation is more closely hewn to the novel.

As with the original, Jeff Bridges is the central focus of the film even if it is told from the point of view of Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld), the eldest daughter of a man shot in cold blood after trying to assist an employee. Bridges plays Reuben “Rooster” Cogburn, an all-or-nothing U.S. Marshal a little too fond of whiskey and far too ungracious to be personable. She hires this feisty drunk to take her into the Indian territories where the man who killed her father has fled. While he doesn’t want to take her along, she worms her way in and, after a time, seems to welcome her company. They are joined by a pesky, self-centered Texas Ranger LaBeouf (pronounced throughout the film as “la beef”) who is also after the culprit, one Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin) for the assassination of a senator back in his home state. While rivals on the trail, all three come to rely on one another to achieve their various goals, but not without much hemming, hawing and trash talking along the way.

Bridges is a force of considerable strength in the film. It’s a role he seemed born to play despite his more easy-going roles in the past. Although there are slight shades of Bad Blake from Crazy Heart, he manages to evoke the sense of frustrated entitlement and confused retribution necessary in the character. We have no problem liking him despite his drunken callousness. Steinfeld is a find discovery. Although her character is a bit more headstrong and clever for her own good, we sympathize with her plight and happily support her efforts. And when she manages to sting nearly every member of the cast with a steel-tongued barb and then stand equally against them in the film, she shows her promise as an actor.

When the film first made its way onto my Oscar radar, I thought for sure that either Brolin or Matt Damon who plays the Texas Ranger, would be Oscar contenders. However, both manage to pale distinctively in comparison to their co-stars. Brolin’s accent and physical carriage, seeming to suggest a character who is mentally handicapped, is not only off-putting, but frustrating. We’re shown how vicious and murderous he could be, but it seems at odds with his personality. There’s even an impression that he was acting on someone else’s orders when he killed Mattie’s father even though we know that not to be the case. Damon does fine until his character has an incident that effects his speech and after that, his lisping performance grates on your nerves, as if his character had already not begun to do prior. It’s like many of the Coens’ other unrealistic characters that make their films feel so snottily smug.

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: THE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER

When I started out this series with The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, I was hardly impressed with the story elements, the performances or the effects. The second film, Prince Caspian, was a more capable flick, though not terribly appropriate for children, and had suggested perhaps the filmmakers had learned and adapted and this third feature might not be bad. Sadly, I was wrong.

There are elements that deserve praise. The film looks far more polished and visually stunning than the prior efforts, though the Aslan animation is still a bit unrefined and several key effects elements are stylistically antiquated. It reminds me a bit in places of The Last Airbender, which is not a positive attribution. The character of Eustace is handled well and young actor Will Poulter does a fairly good job making the audience dislike him yet later feel sympathy for him. And the subplot between him and Reepicheep works quite well.

However, the acting has not improved a bit and the heavy-handed religious narrative has gotten more oppressive. In an effort to appeal to the religious community that supposedly made the original a hit (FYI to the producers, that was never the case), they have stripped every wonderful fantasy element out of the novels and replaced it with an attempt to patronize a small subset of the movie-going public.

One of the reasons the first film was such a success was not that it had religious overtones, but because it was based on a celebrated series of children’s books that nearly every kid of a certain generation had read. With a mixture of nostalgia and hope for another great fantasy series like Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings, audiences flocked to the film. Yes, some of the audiences were bolstered by religious groups, but they were not the chief selling point for the film. The second film tried to pull that same audience in again, but producers should have learned by that film’s less-than-expected box office return that either A) their targeted demo wasn’t turning out the way it should or B) the first film wasn’t as good as they thought. It was a combination of both and now that the third film has found its way to an even more poor box office return, it should be obvious that either the series needs to move away from its indoctrinatory style or it needs to be stopped while it’s still limping.

VERONICA MARS, season 2

The second season of Veronica Mars may well be better than the first. Although both seasons ended rather unexpectedly, revealing a culprit that was briefly hinted at, but never outwardly suggested, this one was a little more sly in its approach. It’s also difficult to talk about the mystery resolution without giving away key plot elements, so I’ll leave that to everyone to figure out when they watch the show, which I highly recommend. It was easily worth the time given over to it. Kristen Bell remains a strong, charismatic presence in the show, giving perhaps the best performance by a youth on television in the last two decades, though she does have some competition from the likes of Sara Gilbert from Roseanne. The series’ strongest point is that it manages to carry an entire story from beginning to end, slowly giving away secrets, misdirects and other clever plot devices while telling other, shorter stories equally well. Top notch writing and witty delivery make the show a terrific asset.